Tag: Classic TV

Classic TV Review: Tales of the Unexpected

A recent lucky find in a second-hand bookstore led to this review for I happened upon a rather dog-eared paperback copy of an anthology of Roald Dahl’s short stories with this same name.

It immediately brought to mind the wonderfully evocative opening titles and theme music which I simply had to pull up on YouTube as soon as I arrived home. And as I’ve explained in one or two other pages on this website, it was another fine example of a theme tune instantly transporting me back a few decades to a time when I’d be heading up to bed just as this atmospheric piece of music (written by Ron Grainer, whose other TV credits include Doctor Who and The Prisoner) filled the living room with the promise of must-see entertainment for my parents.

The stories in the book are a selection from two earlier collections Someone Like You and Kiss Kiss published in 1953 and 1960 respectively and as with all Roald Dahl writing, they are a delight to read.

A writer of short stories myself, I know the joy to be gained from managing to craft a tale that culminates in a gob-smacking twist that the reader didn’t (hopefully) see coming and Dahl was truly a master. On top of this, his narratives are often erudite, frequently dark but always, always entertaining.

The television series ran from 1979 – 1988 during which there were 112 episodes and while I’ve only seen a small number of these, I get the impression from my research that – like so many TV shows – the earlier episodes are the ones to see. The first two seasons were, for the most part, adapted from Dahl’s stories and the author even appears at the beginning of these shows to introduce what you are about to see and to offer a brief explanation as to what inspired him to write it.

And there really are some delights to be had here. Of course, it’s impossible to explain in any detail what the stories are about without giving away or at the very least hinting at the final “twist” but I will say this; for a half hour TV show, you could watch a lot worse. And there is great variety in his situations too which add to the overall interest. Two of my favourite episodes from the first season are Neck – a story about an art lover and his disrespecting, adulterous wife and The Landlady – about a young man from London who arrives at a bed and breakfast in Bath run by a taxidermist.

The series attracted some high profile actors along the way too and the guest stars included a veritable who’s who of Pinewood as well as Hollywood – Joseph Cotton, Derek Jacobi, Joan Collins, John Mills, Janet Leigh, Rod Taylor, John Gielgud and Denholm Elliott to name just a handful. While the episodes may have been produced on modest budgets (something that certainly by today’s standard is quite obvious) there’s no doubting that the talent was there in the acting and writing departments.

So, if you are unfamiliar with this TV show – go on, give it a look. There are worse ways of spending half an hour. And I almost guarantee you’ll be humming the theme tune for the rest of the day.

 

Classic TV Review: Secret Army

For anyone who may have cast an inquisitive or nostalgic eye over my review for the TV show Colditz last September, this piece will probably come as no surprise. I did, after all, say it was highly likely I would bring this show up again. Classic British TV pretty much sums Secret Army up.

It was created by Gerard Glaister (that’s the link with Colditz) jointly by the BBC and the Belgian BRT (now VRT) and it originally aired between September ’77 and December ’79 just about at the time my parents ushered me off to bed. I can well remember being awed by – and a little bit afraid of – the atmospheric and rather bleak opening titles and that wonderful, almost Rachmaninoff-like theme tune which does such a fine job of setting the tone for the show. Alan Jeapes, whose other credits include Eastenders, won a BAFTA for his efforts with these opening (and presumably closing) titles while Robert Farnon, who also wrote the music for more than forty films including Captain Horatio Hornblower R.N. gave us the theme tune.

Secret Army is a story about a fictional resistance movement in Belgium during the Second World War called ‘Lifeline’. Loosely based on the real life ‘Comet line’ which helped allied soldiers and airmen return to Britain via France and Spain and on through Gibraltar, there is a realism to the show that makes it totally engaging. Indeed, Glaister, who was an RAF pilot during the war and would later be awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for his services as a photo reconnaissance pilot in the Western Desert, drew on his experiences as inspiration for the series.

The Café Candide is the main setting of the show and it is run by Albert Foiret (Bernard Hepton) and acts as the hub for the characters. It is the Rovers Return (apologies for another soap reference) of the show, where meetings take place and information is passed that drives the plots. The café is situated somewhere around Brussels where the locals as well as the occupying Nazi forces frequent the place while Albert covertly helps Lisa Colbert (Jan Francis) – a doctor’s assistant by day and a leader of the resistance by night – run ‘Lifeline’. Other members of this ‘secret army’ abound such as the waitress Natalie (Juliet Hammond-Hill) and Albert’s mistress Monique (Angela Richards). If this scenario is beginning to ring bells, then those bells are most probably chiming the theme tune to the sitcom ‘Allo ‘Allo!, which was a hugely popular but dare I say it, rather idiotic, parody of Secret Army, which ran from 1982-92.

The rest of the characters are either locals, fellow collaborators like S.O.E. Officer Flight Lieutenant John Curtis (Christopher Neame), Nazis or allied officers trying to get back to Blighty and it’s the job of the resistance to make that happen. Of course, there would be no tension if there wasn’t the opposing force and therefore, it’s the job of Major Brandt (Michael Culver) and Sturmbannführer Ludwig Kessler (Clifford Rose) to capture every single evader, unearth every safe-house and to close down the evasion line. And therein lies the game of cat and mouse, the show’s recipe for excitement, as one side always tries to gain the upper hand on the other. But it’s a game that costs lives.

I can’t tell you what happens to the characters as the show progresses through its 43 episodes (3 seasons) because I haven’t seen them all yet. But what I have seen has been enough to make me cross my fingers and hope that it gets a rerun on TV soon. There’s nothing gratuitous in the writing, as there is with many contemporary shows; it’s just damn fine storytelling inspired by real-life events. In fact, according to the trivia on IMDB, every one of the scripts were based on real events and thoroughly researched to the point that on more than one occasion, the BBC had to reject a script on the basis that it was deemed too accurate and therefore potentially upsetting to audiences or too politically sensitive. How’s that for reality TV.

 

Classic TV Review: The Professionals

It was sad to read that Lewis Collins had died a few days ago (Nov 27) aged 67 following a five year battle with cancer. He was an underrated actor whose career was blighted by his being typecast as the tough guy, the character type that, ironically, made him a household name in the late ’70s. I’m talking, of course, about Bodie of CI5.

I wasn’t yet a teenager when The Professionals and its high octane opening titles exploded onto our TV screens late in 1977 and quickly became must-see action drama. I forget the time it aired – probably 8pm – but it was a show my parents allowed me to watch (bed straight after) and I just lapped up the fast-paced cocktail of car chases, gun fights and punch-ups. Of the three main characters, Bodie was my favourite – hard as nails and yet suave and well-dressed. I remember one Christmas getting an annual as well as a Corgi model of Bodie’s silver Ford Capri 3.0S complete with three tiny figures posing dramatically inside the box.

For those in the dark about the show, CI5 is a fictional law enforcement agency tasked with stopping all kinds of terrorism and threats to the UK. It is made up of highly capable individuals – the elite of the elite, if you will – and the man in charge is Cowley (Gordon Jackson). His two best men are Doyle (Martin Shaw) and Bodie (Lewis Collins). They are obedient to their superior but aren’t afraid of breaking the rules (as well as the law) if it brings results. Their partnership and friendship is symbiotic and with Cowley giving the orders, they are a great team. To complement the show’s action there are humorous moments between the leads and there is also detail in the police procedures although not as much as in many of today’s crime shows.

The show was created by Brian Clemens who was in part responsible for numerous classic TV shows of the ’60 and ’70s including The Avengers, The Persuaders!, The Protectors and The New Avengers. A total of 57 episodes over five seasons of The Professionals were aired between ’77 and ’83 however, the final episode of season one – Klansmen – was never transmitted on terrestrial TV in the UK because of its racial content.

I’ve caught an episode or two of the show over the years and yes, it filled me with a warm nostalgia but this morning, I happened upon an episode on ITV4 being shown as a tribute to Lewis Collins. This time, poignancy made me pay an even greater level of attention to the screen than normal. The episode was the fourth of season one – Killer with a Long Arm. It is about a Greek sniper who travels over from the continent with a mission to assassinate a Greek Royal at the Wimbledon Tennis Championships in order to make a political statement. The pacing of the story is excellent and the tension builds nicely all the way to the rooftop climax. The plot is believable (with the possible exception of the zoom on the sniper rifle scope) and the writing intelligent. There is mention of forensics and the overall, the action is minimal. I seem to remember some episodes being a lot more gung-ho but maybe these came later when the writers may have struggled for ideas. There are some humorous moments too between Bodie and Doyle and so to put it in a nutshell, it is a terrific episode of an exciting show.

Lewis Collins still commands my attention when he’s on screen. He has great presence and his natural manner, which can change from charming and friendly to threatening and brutal in a second, is totally captivating. His onscreen chemistry with Martin Shaw is great too, which probably helped make the show the success it was and one would assume they had an absolute blast while filming. The two actors had previously shared the screen playing villains in a 1977 episode of The New Avengers and creator Brian Clemens, who had already got Martin Shaw on board as Doyle, brought in Lewis Collins on the strength of this previous pairing. I haven’t watched it but apparently Collins’ character in that New Avengers episode (Obsession) signs off with the comment to Shaw’s character, “Maybe we should work together again. We’re a good team.”

Indeed they were. Lewis Collins may have passed away and I’m sure our hearts go out to the loved ones that survive him but the character for which we all recognise and love him, will live on for as long as humans watch TV.

Classic TV Review: Colditz

A consequence of writing last month’s article about the 1970’s TV show, The Aphrodite Inheritance is that I’ve found myself pondering nostalgically over what else my parents would have sat down to of an evening once us kids were tucked up in bed. What else might they have watched that I was too young for that I would now find enthralling? The answer is, the more I delve the more I find. And the amazing thing with modern access to information is that it’s so easy to discover. A simple Internet search brought a flood of memories back with opening titles I’d only glimpsed before through the balustrades as I reluctantly made my way upstairs to my room and theme tunes that I’d heard only from afar as I lay in the dark waiting for sleep to whisk me away to some childhood dreamland.

One such show was Colditz, a gritty WWII drama co-produced by the BBC and Universal Studios. It originally aired between 1972 and ’74 with 28 episodes over two seasons and I well remember the opening sequence and the music. But it was on at bedtime and I never got to watch it. Of course there’s a very good chance that had I been permitted to watch it, I wouldn’t have understood what it was all about anyway but that’s the beauty of rediscovering things years later and I have to say – I’m extremely glad I have. Because it’s terrific television.

For those of you unfamiliar with the name Colditz, it was the prisoner-of-war camp in Nazi Germany during the Second World War and the place where Allied officers were sent if they were pains in the neck, i.e. prone to repeatedly escape from other camps. It was designated Oflag IV-C (Oflag being short for Offizierslager which means “officers camp”) and was situated in a thousand year old castle on a rocky outcrop overlooking the town of Colditz in Saxony. Its outer walls were seven feet thick and protecting it on one side was a sheer drop of two hundred and fifty feet to the Mulde river below. The Nazis considered it to be escape-proof but history tells us otherwise.

The first three episodes of this 50 minute show introduce three of the central characters and their subsequent capture by the Germans early in the war. Capt. Pat Grant (Edward Hardwicke), Flt. Lt. Simon Carter (David McCallum) and Lt. Dick Player (Christopher Neame) prove themselves to be problematic prisoners for the Nazis by their numerous attempts to escape. They are therefore finally sent to Germany’s maximum security facility where “escape is impossible”. The fourth episode finally takes us to Colditz after the capture of Flt. Lt. Phil Carrington (Robert Wagner) and from then on the series deals with the relationships between prisoners of various nationalities and their German captors as well as the prisoners’ constant attempts to escape. If you’ve ever seen the movie The Great Escape, it’s a bit like that only not as spectacular but a good deal grittier and more realistic.

Indeed, the technical consultant on the series was Major Pat Reid (the character portrayed by Edward Hardwicke being based on him) who was in real life the British Escape Officer at Colditz. He was one of the few who actually managed to successfully escape from the castle and after the war he went on to write about his experiences in two best-selling books which in turn would go on to be the basis of a film (The Colditz Story directed by Guy Hamilton in 1955), this TV show and a popular board game in the early ’70s. The majority of the events depicted in the series have some basis in reality and while all character names are fictitious, many of them are based, albeit loosely, on actual people. It therefore gives the show a very “real” feel.

This accuracy in the writing together with generally superb performances from all the actors is what makes this TV show one of the most riveting I’ve seen in a long time. Jack Hedley who plays Lt. Col. John Preston, the Senior British Officer and therefore the man who assumes full responsibility for the British prisoners does a fine job with his role. His stoicism and command of his men is a thing of beauty as is his respect for their wishes and duties. His relationship with the camp Kommandant (masterfully played by Bernard Hepton) is wonderfully multi-layered and as such, a very interesting one to see evolve when the two men share the screen.

But in all honesty, I nitpick by naming certain actors. The entire ensemble is spot on. The scripts are intelligent and always within the realms of reality thereby easily impressing upon the viewer how life would have been for those military men forced to wait out the war behind lock and key far from their homes and loved ones.

Gerard Glaister, who together with Brian Degas created the show, was a flyer in the RAF during the war and would go on to be awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for his duties. Originally training as an actor at RADA, he would draw on his wartime experiences many times throughout his career as writer/producer with a number of other TV shows set during and after the Second World War. One of these was yet another series I remember glimpsing the opening titles to as I trudged reluctantly upstairs to bed – Secret Army and I may well review that at some point in the near future. I caught one fragmented episode on YouTube and loved it.

With today’s TV schedules crammed full of inane “follow some weird individual with a camcorder and make a reality TV star out of them” nonsense (there are exceptions of course with some very good series currently produced), I find it a refreshing change to seek out the programmes my parents would have tuned into. Turns out they had some pretty good stuff to watch. It also explains why they insisted on me being in bed at a certain time.

And there I was thinking they simply wanted me to get a good night’s sleep. Early to bed and early to rise…yeah whatever!

 

 

 

Classic TV Review: The Aphrodite Inheritance

When I stumbled upon this 1979 BBC mini series recently it was a blast from the past. Admittedly, over the years I’d think of it every once in a while and try to recall what it was about but all I could remember was a man driving quickly along a sun-baked dusty road. Turns out that’s exactly how the series opens. I wasn’t quite yet a teenager when I sat down and shut up at my parent’s bidding to watch with them this Cyprus-set prime time drama and I have to say, I hadn’t a clue what was going on. Far too grown up and complicated for a boy who probably watched the opening theme tune and then started to play with his Lego. Well, it’s taken over thirty years but I’ve finally watched it. And understood it. And I totally see why my parents insisted on my being quiet while it was on.

Written by Michael J. Bird, who had a thing for dramas set in the Mediterranean and had already given us The Lotus Eaters in ’72 and Who Pays the Ferryman? in ’77, The Aphrodite Inheritance ran for eight episodes and tells a story of greed, betrayal and murder. And Greek mythology.

David Collier (Peter McEnery) arrives in Cyprus following the tragic death of his brother Barry, who was living and working on the island as a construction engineer. It appears he’d been driving too fast on a coastal road and plunged over the edge of a precipice. David liaises with police inspector Dimas (Godfrey James) and assumes that his brother’s affairs will be wrapped up fairly quickly.

However, after the funeral a beautiful woman named Helene (Alexandra Bastedo) confides to David that his brother was murdered. She draws him to a deserted village where she presents him with a suitcase she says was owned by his brother which is filled with £50,000. She says it’s proof that Barry was up to no good. David finds the news hard to believe and when he asks Helene to accompany him to the police to tell them, she refuses saying she cannot get involved. She then disappears leaving David to drive back to town alone. On his way back with the cash, he is forced off the road and knocked unconscious and the case is stolen by a playful chap named Charalambos (Stefan Gryff) who just so happens to be a friend of Helene.

When David informs the inspector of these events and what Helene told him, Dimas is rightly sceptical because there’s no evidence that his brother was murdered. There’s no Helene either, and no case with fifty grand in it. In short, Dimas reckons David Collier is slightly bonkers.

Anyway, as the story unfolds there are plenty of strange goings on for David, plenty of weird coincidences that occur and draw him deeper into a plot that involves the lost tomb of Aphrodite. Along the way we meet another of Helene’s friends, the magnificent bandit Basileos (Brian Blessed). We also meet the seemingly untrustworthy American millionaire Hellman (Paul Maxwell), as well as dishonest partners and killers with big guns.

I don’t really want to say more than that because I think it would give greater enjoyment if the unfolding of the plot and characters therein retain their mystery just as they did when the series was first aired. I suppose that’s one downside to the Internet; because it’s all there to read, you can often spoil the surprise.

I admit that the story is a little slow in a couple of places and there are one or two scenes that invoke a slight cringe-worthy wince, which can promote the tendency to get up and put the kettle on or cast your eyes over a newspaper just to hold sleep at bay, but take my word for it, it’s well worth staying with it. While it may not be outstanding, it is highly enjoyable and quite intriguing.

The actors are all well placed and aside from the main characters, many locals were used as extras to add authenticity. Godrey James plays a great police inspector and Peter McEnery looks like a boyish version of Ian Ogilvy only without the suavity. Oh yes, and Alexandra Bastedo plays the mysterious beauty rather well too.

Give it a look if you can. It’s far more rewarding than a lot of current TV.

Film Review: Heimat

A friend recently asked me if I’d seen the classic German TV series Heimat. After replying with a somewhat dimwitted – “Huh? What?”, I had to admit to not even having heard of it. But when he added that it’s regarded very highly by film fans and critics alike and often reaches high places in numerous lists of The Greatest….etc etc, I was intrigued enough to seek it out.

Heimat (a German word that means Homeland) is actually a series of 32 films or rather episodes written and directed by Edgar Reitz. They depict life in Germany between the years of 1919 and 2000 as seen through the eyes of the Simon family from the Hunsrück region of the Rhineland and although the overall length of the 32 films is 53 and a half hours, making it one of the longest series of feature-length films in cinema history, for this review, I’m dealing with the first season only, which spans the years 1919 to 1982.

The first season of Heimat was originally broadcast in 1984 and consists of 11 episodes, centring on the character of Maria Simon (Marita Breuer), and her life in the small fictional village of Schabbach. We follow her from being a carefree teenager to a wizened, mentally scarred old matriarch and all the ups and downs that life throws at her along the way. At the beginning, it depicts a simple peasant life within a close-knit community where two and three generations often live under one roof and where everyone knows everyone else’s business. The village is filled with colourful characters, some loveable, some not, and we get to join them on their journey through the years as they deal with everything from domestic and personal issues to wider social and political events.

English subtitles notwithstanding, I found it very easy to immerse myself in the affairs of these people as they deal with love, loss, illness, gossip as well as the national matters that were occurring in Germany at the time. The scope of the filming never really strays far from the village and surrounding towns so the effects that these national upheavals have on the members of the community are depicted in very personal ways. I found it quite extraordinary to see the village itself slowly transform over the years as horses and carts give way to motorcycles and automobiles and as the coming of the telephone and the building of a highway change the local landscape. The costume department did a great job too, no mean feat when you’re talking about seven decades and numerous fashion styles.

The plot is far too comprehensive to go into here but as part kitchen-sink drama and part social/political commentary, it shows in wonderful detail how times changed for the people of this tiny rural community and as positive as progress is, one can’t help but feel a little rueful at the passing of certain things. “Once, we all lived under the same roof. Now we are spread around the world,” says a family member, aptly summing up the changes. Of course, spanning so many years, characters come and go, some die through old age, sickness or war and new characters are born who become fascinating to us a little further down the line. For the most part, the make-up to age the actors is terrific as is the acting. The look of the film is beautiful too with sweeping panoramas of the countryside and nicely lit interiors and the frequent switching between colour and black and white to heighten emotional conveyance adds to the overall ambience of the time.

A filmmaker from his early twenties, the director, Edgar Reitz was born in Morbach, Hunsrück in 1932 and so he knew the region and the people well. This is likely why there’s such a feeling of honesty about Heimat. If this wonderful piece of art is unknown to you as it was me, do yourself a favour and take the time to give it a look. It’s richly rewarding and definitely worth it.